


Magic Number

by Karita Wyr (karitawyr)



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: M/M, Multi, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-16
Updated: 2010-03-16
Packaged: 2017-10-08 01:08:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/71143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karitawyr/pseuds/Karita%20Wyr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After being forced to abandon Hogwarts after a Death Eater attack, Harry finds refuge in the arms of both Sirius Black and Severus Snape.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Magic Number

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written in 2003 shortly before the publication of _Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix._ All events in this story were mere conjecture based on the previous four books and this author's twisted ideas. Thanks go to Thalia for the beta.
> 
> Harry is nineteen in this story.

Three dark heads rested on one long down-filled pillow. Three sets of nude limbs intertwined under a rumpled sheet, as three very different men slept as serenely as any of them had in many years.

The youngest of these three men, Harry Potter, all of nineteen years of age, slept in the middle. Previously, he had suffered difficulties falling asleep due to the enormous weight placed on his inexperienced shoulders. This evening he fell asleep more quickly and more easily than any Dreamless Sleep potion would allow.

To Harry's left, lay Sirius Black, nominally Harry's godfather. That bit of information provided a fair indication of Sirius' age. He rather did not like telling it. However, the third man in the bed, Severus Snape, who rather liked poking holes in the balloon that was Sirius' vanity, often saved him the trouble.

Snape was the same age as Sirius. Where Sirius' youthful demeanor and favorable genetics made him appear nearly a decade younger than he truly was, Severus' frequent scowls and snappishness revealed a man in his early forties, and not necessarily happy about it.

None of these three men expected to be in the embrace of the other two, and yet, there they were, relaxed and at ease. How they all got to be in that one bed, though, was anything but easy.

Of course, it all had to do with Lord Voldemort, as everything extraordinary in Harry's young life seemed to.

*^*

Every one of Voldemort's Death Eaters agreed that Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had to be destroyed, as it was a symbol of light and freedom to the magical beings of England. Yet, despite their enforced loyalty, the fanatical minions were reluctant to attack the school while their children were in attendance. Hence the attack arrived late one night two weeks prior to a new term, when only the teachers and support staff, including one Harry Potter, apprentice Charms professor, were in residence.

In the chaos surrounding the strike, the Dark Lord himself killed Headmaster Albus Dumbledore. With half the school reduced to cinders and rubble Harry, Snape, and Sirius abandoned the ruined building for the dubious safety of the Forbidden Forest.

Covered in ash, scratches, and sweat the three took shelter in a cave Sirius had discovered years earlier. Having volunteered for first watch, Sirius sat huddled near the front of the cave, arms wrapped around his drawn-up knees, pale eyes searching the darkness for any signs of pursuit.

Deeper back in the cave, unaware that they could be overheard, Harry and Snape were doing what they did best together, arguing.

"How could you not have known this was coming? You were our man inside. Inside what? Apparently your head must have been up inside your arse," Harry spat out, chest heaving from the exertion of their mad dash through the trees.

Snape's dark eyes narrowed, the whites nearly invisible. "Why, you insufferable twit! How many times must I save your worthless hide before you will even feign being grateful? To clarify, since you asked so pleasantly, I did know it was coming eventually and I had informed Albus. Voldemort would not tell me when it would be for fear my demeanor would give his game away."

"If Albus knew then why weren't we ready? Why didn't he tell any of the rest of us?"

"Because everyone believed it was too soon."

"Everyone? You mean I am the only one who didn't know this was a possibility?" Harry asked.

"It was for your own protection, your peace of mind," Snape returned almost gently.

"I am not feeling any bloody peace right now!"

Snape let out a derisive snort. "If you think my idea of a relaxing night is to sleep in a filthy cave with you and Sirius Black, you are indeed less intelligent than you appear, however impossible that seems at the moment."

"Fuck me, Snape." Harry snapped.

Voice modulated to imposing classroom levels, Snape answered, "I believe, Mr. Potter, that the charmingly vulgar phrase you are looking for is 'fuck you.'"

"I said what I meant," Harry shot back, pinning Snape with a look that spoke of a deep ache, of throbbing misery and lust. Everyone would be looking to him for answers now that Dumbledore was gone. Facing them alone would be nearly impossible. Harry needed his scathingly brilliant former professor by his side. Needed and wanted.

In an instant, the two combatants were all over one another, years of frustration and irritation thrown wildly to the floor with their clothes. They cast aside every other negative emotion they had held so closely. They poured all that was left into one another in the hope that the other would remain strong and steadfast and that ultimately they would conquer evil.

Sirius listened in the darkness, too weary to be embarrassed or outraged. He sat, propped against the cold stone wall, allowing his eyes to drift shut for a moment, thinking about what needed to be done. So much, too much perhaps for any of them, but especially for Harry. Sirius was too exhausted to think about it, and he let previews of future battles fade away. Only one thought remained to plague him; what could he offer to Harry that might be of use?

The next day they rendezvoused at a predetermined point with the remaining Hogwarts staff and other allies. Ideas were tossed up into the air and shot down; fragments of those ideas were combined with others and tossed up again. It went on and on, all of it carefully and precisely recorded.

Well after midnight, the planners dispersed, finding rooms for themselves in what most of the locals believed was a haunted hotel. It wasn't truly, or it hadn't been until several of the Hogwarts ghosts arrived for the planning sessions. The hotel had been retained by the Hogwarts staff for just such a time as this, and the tales of hauntings had been carefully cultivated.

Sirius dragged himself up two flights of stairs to a small room in the back of the building. It appeared to have been a servant's quarters at one time. He didn't care. All he wanted was to sleep in a warm bed. If a little voice inside his head told him he was trying to put as many rooms as possible between himself and the one his godson and Severus Snape were undoubtedly sharing, he tried to ignore it, albeit without success.

He was therefore surprised to awaken near dawn with Harry's head resting on his shoulder. He immediately tensed up, rousing Harry. The young man smiled down at him, green eyes glowing eerily in the half-light.

"Can I stay with you, Sirius?" the younger man asked.

"I had hoped you wouldn't ever feel like you had to ask, Harry," Sirius answered. His heart was beating faster and faster, anticipation a drug firing his system. Consciously, he didn't know what it was that was causing this surge of excitement. And then he did, for Harry leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his parted lips.

He felt nothing but joy in that instant. Harry wanted him; Harry needed him, too.

 

*^*

Harry made love to Sirius nearly every other night. During the day, they joked and teased and, occasionally, they would sneak off to snog. Of course, Harry also spent large chunks of time with Snape. They bounced ideas off one another, derided each other's brain function over dinner, and would, occasionally, sneak off to snog. That last activity would normally be more than enough to make Sirius jealous, but he wouldn't allow it for Harry's sake.

While Harry didn't seem unhappy with splitting his time between his two lovers, he didn't appear to be entirely pleased with the arrangement either. Sirius noticed Harry looking at him, then at Snape, almost wistfully. Harry would then shake his head, compose himself, and return to whatever had previously been occupying his attention.

Sirius had an idea about what might ease Harry's turmoil, but he'd need Snape's cooperation. As soon as he was able, Sirius cornered the other man in the kitchens.

"We need to talk," Sirius said when the door swung shut behind them.

"How trite. Couldn't you have at least endeavored to say something less clichéd?" Severus snapped sourly.

Sirius just managed to keep from stomping his foot. "This is important, you ratty berk."

That earned Sirius a pinch-faced scowl. "My, my, a new insult. No more 'greasy git?' You have matured."

"Times have changed and so have my insults," Sirius retorted. "Can we get on with this?"

Snape crossed his arms over his chest. "I am listening," he said with the air of a lord holding court.

"It's about Harry."

"What about Potter?"

It amazed Sirius that Snape was still maintaining the façade that he was indifferent to Harry when nearly every resident of the hotel knew better. Peeves the Poltergeist delighted in flinging open doors whenever he discovered couples that had forgotten to properly ward the room. Harry and Snape had been caught in an embrace more than once.

Ignoring Snape's imperious tone, Sirius ran his hands through his overly long hair, pulling out several strands in the process. He searched his mind for where to begin, while Snape openly glared at him. Finally, he said baldly, "Harry needs more than jumping from your bed to mine and back again."

Snape guffawed, "He's nineteen. He needs saltpeter or a blow-up doll."

"Maybe we need ginseng and oysters." Sirius shot back.

A delicate shiver rippled through Snape's slender frame. "Oysters. Disgusting," he said, doing nothing to hide his revulsion at the thought of what many considered to be a rare delicacy.

Here was his opening, thought Sirius, the opportunity to determine if Snape would be amenable to his plan. "You think so?" he asked softly, taking two steps toward Snape. One hand drifted to his throat as he tilted his head back, allowing his fingers to slide down the long column of his neck. "I like the way they feel, slipping down my throat. That smooth texture, it feels so good going down."

Sneaking a peek at the other man, Sirius was pleased to see Snape's dark eyes beginning to glaze over; obviously he was considering what Sirius wanted him to be considering. Then the man seemed to come awake again with a jolt.

"What is the meaning of this poor excuse for a seduction, Black?" Snape demanded.

With a wicked smile, Sirius closed the distance between them, placing his hand on Snape's crotch, massaging the growing hardness there. "Poor excuse, eh? I wonder what a well-considered attempt might produce."

"Get your hands off me, Black, " Snape ground out though he did not move away.

"Afraid?" Sirius challenged.

"I fear very little. I teach mindless adolescents." Snape responded, pushing into Sirius' teasing hand. "However, I fail to see what this little escapade has to do with Harry."

Sirius smiled, pleased to note that Snape had used Harry's given name. "Interested now, eh?" Snape nearly choked when Sirius' other hand slipped around to caress his backside, drawing them closer.

"Perhaps," Snape answered, striving to sound neutral. He might have succeeded if not for the slight hiss at the end of the word.

"Harry needs us both in his life. He's weary of the animosity between you and me. I believe we are both going to lose him, if we don't do something drastic." Sirius punctuated his last statement with a sharp bite to Snape's left ear.

Panting heavily now, Severus managed to whisper before grabbing handfuls of Sirius' shirtfront, "I am feeling rather, uhm, partial to you at the moment, Black. What do you have in mind?"

"You're going to be there when it happens. Just wait and see," Sirius breathed against the other man's lips.

Patience was something Severus Snape spared only for the preparation of delicate and volatile potions, not people, and especially not Sirius Black when the man was being coy. Might as well see what happens now. Swooping in like a ravenous vulture, he captured Sirius' lips in a scorching kiss.

*^*

That evening Harry stepped into his own second floor room, the one he rarely slept in, and pointed his wand at a lantern. Three things seemed to happen simultaneously; the wand was wrenched from his grasp, both his arms were pulled behind his back and held in an unyielding grip, and strong teeth bit into his shoulder. Harry moaned, but not from pain or fear. There was no evil intent in his handling. Someone wanted his undivided attention, and they had it. The only problem was that his legs felt like they might fold up like a cheap patio chair.

"Severus?" he asked shakily, as one earlobe was sucked and nibbled upon.

The grip on his hands tightened and they were pressed against his spine, forcing his back to arch slightly and his head to fall against his tormenter's shoulder.

"Ah, so this is how you two play?" Sirius murmured against his captive's neck. "He gives it to you rough and I take it slow and sweet. I think it's high time that changed. Wouldn't you agree, Severus?"

"Indeed, I would," agreed a smoky voice that wafted over from the direction of the king-sized bed. "I never could manage to get this boy to think beyond what was directly in front of him. There were times he was unable to even recognize that."

Finding his voice once more, Harry demanded in fine Gryffindor fashion, "And what is directly in front of me? What are you up to?"

In the dim light from the windows, Harry watched as Severus rose from the bed and glided across the floor to cradle his upturned face in his palms. "Do you want us? Both of us together? Not as a one-off, but on as permanent a basis as your nineteen-year old brain can fathom?"

"Oh, yes," Harry answered, already missing Snape's warm weathered hands when they fell away.

Sirius released Harry's hands and wrapped his arms around the younger man, fitting his body tightly up against him. "And this will make you happy? Happy enough that we can merrily go about plotting to kill Voldemort until he's really dead this time? Or maybe even turned into a hedgehog?" he said with a smile in his voice.

"Definitely. But what about you two?"

"I rather fancy seeing Voldemort dressed as a can-can dancer," Snape quipped.

Harry twisted in Sirius' arms to look his godfather in the eye. He asked in an exaggerated whisper, "Did he just make a joke? Severus Snape? That man behind me?" He pointed over his shoulder at the smirking man.

"I believe he did," Sirius answered earnestly.

He turned back to glare at Snape, "Right then. I did recognize what was directly in front of me."

"I trust you are not expecting to be awarded House points for failing to be an idiot for once."

"No, just a straight answer. How is this going to be for you and Sirius? I can't see this arrangement pleasing either of you?"

"Mr. Black and I worked out our differences this afternoon," Snape responded, dark eyes flashing with remembrance.

Leering at Snape, Sirius added, "Some things aren't so different after all."

Harry watched this exchange with his mouth hanging open. Snape and Sirius were flirting. They even implied they had…oh god, what had they done together? Thinking about it made him aware of his painfully hard erection pressing against Sirius thigh.

"Shut your mouth, Harry, you look ridiculous," Sirius chided.

Grinding his hardness against Sirius, Harry challenged, "Shut it for me."

Sirius pounced on Harry's mouth with his own. He wasn't gentle; he was demanding, and Harry provided him with everything he'd envisioned on the nights he'd spent alone in his bed. This was no sweet, almost timid kiss. It was bold and fiery and Sirius lost himself in it, engulfed by the push and thrust of their tongues, the heat and taste of Harry's mouth and the satisfied sigh the younger man gave when he reluctantly pulled away.

Snape devoured the other men with his eyes. Having spent so much of his time in the dungeons with very little to look at other than stone walls, he was unprepared for this voyeuristic delight. Sirius and Harry made an inspiring pair. They parted too soon for Snape's newly discovered taste. Fortunately, Harry was walking toward him.

With excruciating slowness, Harry undid the row of buttons on the front of Snape's white shirt. There were a few more than were strictly necessary, but far fewer than there could have been. All the shirts, waistcoats, and jackets with their processions of tiny buttons were buried beneath tons of stone and mortar.

When the last button was pushed through its hole, Harry parted the material, mapping Snape's chest with his fingertips, noting for the first time the handful of small scars scattered over the man's chest. He traced one on Snape's left collarbone with trembling fingers; then tenderly placed butterfly kisses along the length of the scar. Snape gasped at Harry's surprising tenderness and wound his fingers into Harry's tousled hair.

Sirius stepped behind Snape and drew the open shirt down Snape's arms, tossing it aside. He quickly pulled his faded t-shirt over his head and embraced Severus, front to back, mimicking the manner in which he had held Harry earlier. He kissed Snape's' neck, mouth open, tongue wet on the taut skin.

Snape turned his head, capturing Sirius' mouth with his own, wondering if Harry was watching, rather hoping he was. When Snape pulled away from Sirius' kiss, Harry was looking at him steadily, brushing his fingers over one of Snape's nipples, making sure he had his attention before leaning over Snape's shoulder to kiss Sirius once again.

The two men continued to kiss fervently. Snape slithered out from between them. He removed his remaining clothes and lay on the bed, one hand propping up his head the other sneaking down to cup his aching balls. He intended to enjoy the rest of the show.

The kiss went on for some time until both men drew back panting. Harry smiled wickedly, pulling off his shirt and dropping to he knees before Sirius. The button-fly jeans were not even a challenge to Harry and were quickly dispatched along with Sirius' shoes.

There was never any doubt about Harry's intention, and yet, the first touch of his tongue to Sirius' prick still came as a surprise. Sirius' insides melted. Certainly his lungs had to be a molten heap for he had trouble catching his breath. He almost had it in his grasp, and then Harry stretched his mouth wide around Sirius' erection and swallowed him down and there it went again.

Harry held Sirius' hips in hands to keep Sirius from thrusting, but he let one hand go so he could press the heel of his hand against his aching hardness. He was close, too close. Sirius was panting above him. The little breaths were devastatingly sexy and if Harry came he wouldn't be able to continue pleasuring Sirius. He tended to be quite knackered afterwards, and he was lucky breathing was automatic; otherwise he'd be in big trouble.

It became a moot point anyway, when Sirius pushed him away roughly.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked, hurt.

Sirius reached down and caressed Harry's cheek. "Nothing, it was fabulous and if I hadn't planned on finally taking you tonight, I'd have let you finish. Besides," he said, nodding toward the bed, "Severus looks like he could use some attention."

Severus Snape was slowly stroking his cock, raptly watching the other two, who had stopped to watch him. "Don't mind me. I was just appreciating the view."

"You never were easy to ignore, Snape. You're even less so now," Harry proclaimed. He knelt on the floor perfectly still, mesmerized by Snape's rigid cock and the hand languidly stroking it.

Snape raised one arched brow. As if that was a counter-spell to unlock his petrified limbs, Harry sprang up, yanked off his trousers, and launched himself at the bed. Snape let out a disgruntled 'oof'.

"Get off me. You are behaving like a hyperactive canine, like your damned godfather. Get down!" Snape commanded.

"Down you say? Down it is." Harry slapped Snape's hand out of the way, urged the man to spread his legs then reached between and cupped the man's balls. Snape tried to maintain his glare, but found his eyes starting to cross when Harry leaned in for a short tonsil-sucking kiss. Glare diminished to a blank stare, Snape gasped when a lube-slicked finger breached his entrance.

"Where did that come from?"

"My hand or the lubricant?" Harry asked fatuously, grinning madly and inserting a second finger.

"Of course, the lubricant, you nitwit," Snape huffed.

"I am a wizard," Harry said with pride, as if that explained it.

Snape huffed again, although it sounded suspiciously like a pant to Harry. "I don't think, ah, yes, there, the conjuring of lubricant was anywhere on the Hogwarts syllabus."

"Snape?" a third voice asked.

"Yes, Black?"

"Shut up. I never would have agreed to this if I'd known you could be so chatty during sex." Sirius took care of the problem by kissing Snape until the other man was breathless. Then he added thoughtfully, "Harry's a talker, too. Sex between you must be a real gabfest. Well, time to make myself useful."

Snape grumbled something about how, "the words 'useful' and 'Sirius Black' should not be allowed in the same sentence." He was brought back to the present by Harry tapping him on the nose.

"You do talk too much."

"Just fuck me already."

"You sure? Because we could just chitchat and cuddle," Harry teased.

Snape grabbed Harry by the shoulders and pulled him down to growl in his ear, "Now, you insolent little twerp."

With a negligent shrug, Harry acquiesced, "Whatever you say, Professor." He pushed into Snape slowly and when he was fully sheathed, he whispered, "I love you, too."

Harry rocked slowly back and forth into Snape's body, searching for the right angle, the right pace. He found them both at precisely the same time if Snape's howl of pleasure was a true indication. Losing himself in their spiraling arousal and the exquisite feel of Snape tightly surrounding his throbbing prick, he was ill prepared for the electric slide of Sirius' tongue against his hole.

"Omigod, that's…don't stop."

Sirius snickered, but didn't stop. Little exploratory licks turned into deep thrusts with his tongue.

"What's going on back there?" Snape demanded, sounding for all the world like he had just caught two third year girls passing notes under the table in his classroom.

"Oh, God, Sirius is making himself useful," Harry gasped out. His movements became frantic, pushing forward into Snape and back into Sirius' ardent tongue.

"Relax, Harry," Sirius soothed. He leaned over Harry's back and dropped kisses on the young man's sweaty neck. The pair moved together as Harry continued to thrust into Snape. "It's going to get better."

Soon he realized what his godfather meant when he felt the blunt head of Sirius' cock at his loosened hole. Harry had always taken Sirius when they had made love, and a good thing it was too, since Harry had been relatively inexperienced and Sirius was hung like a horse. Which Harry thought wildly was odd, since Sirius' animagus form was a dog not a horse. But then no one would want to claim be hung like a dog, now would they?

His thoughts coalesced into one big, bright, neon "Yes!" when Sirius pushed into him. It burned, and he felt stretched to the limit, but it was so good, so very, very good. All three men moved in tandem seeking release. Concentrating so hard on reaching orgasm, even Snape was no longer speaking, much to the relief of his bedmates.

Snape came first, loudly, thus ending his short period of silence. Harry, in the middle, and thus bombarded by sensation on two fronts came next, sobbing out his lovers' names. After several more forceful thrusts, Sirius poured his seed out into Harry, all the while whispering words full of nonsense and love in the younger man's ear.

They disentangled themselves gingerly and then tangled themselves up again under the covers with Harry snuggled in the middle.

Sirius kissed the top of Harry's head. "You know it will not always be you in the center of things?"

Harry wormed closer to Sirius, while wiggling his trim little behind against Snape, compelling him closer too. "I know. It's about all three of us."

"How weird is that?" Sirius asked, not expecting an answer.

Snape gave one anyway, "Very."

*^*

Hours later Harry awoke secure in the arms of his lovers. He'd just had a pleasant dream. It was about Voldemort. He was doing the can-can in a bright green dress.

THE END


End file.
